Not Quite Ready
by CaskettFeels
Summary: <html><head></head>Spoilers for 7x03 Sneak Peek, 7x02. The phone doesn't ring in my version. :)</html>


**Not Quite Ready**

**Spoilers for 7x03 (Sneak Peek) and 7x02**

Castle and Beckett sat on the couch in the blissfully quiet, dimly lit loft. The fireplace it lit up in the background, and Martha and Alexis were catching a broadway show that Castle really wasn't in the mood to see. With Becket glued to his side lately, like she was afraid to even blink, feeling like if she did, he would disappear on her all over again, it was understandable that she too did not feel like catching the show. He didn't judge her for that, because he had no _real_ idea of what she had been through in the last couple months.

They both had their ipads up, Beckett was reading hers in lovely nighttime reading settings, whereas he was merely pretending to read. Hell, he had read the same line 25 times now. He just wanted to reach out and touch her, find that solid ground together like they promised. He had to admit, though, it was still somewhat hurtful to know that she had lost hope at times over the last couple of months, and yet he couldn't blame her. He knew what the evidence suggested, and seeing the video of himself dropping off the cash made him equally as sick, but he would never do that to her, or Alexis, or his Mother. Not willingly, anyway, and he desperately wanted her to believe that.

He felt like after the video of himself, the one saying goodbye, her faith was somewhat restored in him. Hell, it was somewhat restored in himself, too. It wasn't his choice. He didn't mean to leave on their wedding day, and something was happening that clearly forced his hand. He loved her. He always loved her. _Always_.

Sitting there, God, he just wanted her, wanted to show her everything he was feeling. _She_ was his solid ground, and he needed to make that perfectly clear, but, she wasn't ready. After everything she had been through, Their kisses had been few and far between over the last couple of weeks, but he was thrilled when she embraced him. He relished it, even, and his body was telling him he missed it.

He lowered his ipad, so tempted to broach the subject with her, wondering where they stood with each other, but he didn't want to push her into anything. The ring on her finger shouldn't make her feel obligated, and so he brought his ipad back up and pretended to read while his thoughts festered into sexual frustration.

Of course Beckett noticed his movements over the top of her ipad. She was a trained detective after all, but he was back to his own ipad, whatever he was going to say is lost to them. She considers him for a moment, completely unaware of what was going through his mind, and it was completely maddening.

Still, anything beat sitting there in silence, and she had to admit that she wasn't getting any further in her book, either. "You wanna do somethin' tonight?" she broke the ice.

His ipad went down. "Sure," he answered all too quickly. _Yes, please_. _Anything._ "If you want?"

"Sure."

"Like what?"

Oh, that backfired really quickly. Of course he would leave the ball in her court, willing to do anything she wanted to make her happy. He was such a sweet man, but that was frustrating on its own, too. Still, she struggled for an idea of something they could do that wasn't what she really wanted to do, because _he_ wasn't ready. "We could… um… go watch a movie?"

"Yeah… yeah… if you want to." He'd do it for her, even though he didn't really feel like it.

It was his tone that clued her in. "Well, not if you don't want to," she added, shaking her head because really, she didn't care for getting dressed to head out for the threatre. She was comfortable where she was, if only she was just a little closer to him without pushing him.

"No… if you want to… I want to…"

No, it wasn't in the cards for them tonight. "Yeah, you know what, we've watched a lot of movies in the last couple of weeks."

"Yeah," he agrees, wincing, because sitting there with her curled up against him was nice, but he wanted more.

"Soooooooo…" she drawls, bordering on nervousness. She looked down at her ipad, not sure how to put into words what she's really thinking without him feeling cornered. "Maybe we could… if you wanted…" Why was this so hard?

He is all ears, though, looking at her intently, and it's making her feel both nervous and slightly hopeful. "If I wanted to what?" he asked, sitting up straighter.

"Well, we could try something else tonight." She stops just short of pulling her bottom lip between her teeth suggestively. The smile is threatening to break out at the mere thought of the two of them together, _finally_ after two whole months of him being gone. God, is she ever ready for him, but she can wait if that's what he needs.

"Something else, as in…."

The way he adjusts himself on the couch made her wonder if maybe she should have opened her mouth, but they were engaged. She needed to know where his head was at, either way. "Well, yeah… I mean we haven't…. _since…_"

Castle jumped in. "Yeah, well, giving everything that's happened, I thought you just… you weren't… _ready_." His heart raced in that moment.

She set her ipad off to the side, leaning forward. "I thought that you weren't ready." So, that was it? What the hell?! They were supposed to be better at the whole communication thing.

His eyes went wide. "I'm ready! I'm… I… Pfft. I'm sooo ready," he said with such passion that she had no choice but to believe it.

She moved closer to him on the couch, getting up on her knees. "I'm ready, too. Like I'm _really_ ready."

"Okay then… wha-what are we waiting for? The phone to ring?"

An exasperated sound escaped the back of her throat and she was on her feet instantly, proving to him just how ready she was. She was halfway across the room when she turned to give him her signature seductive look, but he was hot on her heels, crowding into her and it was really unnecessary.

His lips descended upon hers, swallowing up her instant moan as he backed her up and guided her through his office. Her nimble fingers were already working at the buttons of his shirt, slipping each disk through the holes, exposing more skin for her hands to roam once the shirt was open and untucked from his pants. Through to his bedroom, he kicked the door shut behind him, affording them their privacy should his mother and daughter come home. It was dark in the room, but a minimal amount of light illuminated the room from the office. Those bookshelves were the weirdest thing, but they were quite gorgeous.

"Rick," she whispered needily against his mouth. His hands pulled at her shirt, and she lifted her arms to assist him in it's removal. It fell somewhere. Her skin was flushed, hot under his roaming hands. She grabbed his wrists, one at a time and carefully unclasped the cuffs of his shirt. It joined hers on the floor. Her hands touched his pecks, reveling in the heat he was giving off, and moved up to his shoulders, his neck. Her eyes met the twinkle of his, and he guided her back towards the bed.

She fell down upon it, scooted up towards the headboard as he crawled after her and settled his weight between her legs in a promise of what was to come. He was taking his time, though, his mouth moving along her jaw, down her neck, drawing from her all the sounds she had forgotten how to make over the last two months, but he just wasn't going fast enough. Leg hooked around him, she flipped them over and straddled him.

He looked up at her with an impressed smile on his face, completely mesmerized by her, completely taken with her; the black bra she wore, which would undoubtedly match her panties. His hands bracketed her hips while her tongue dove into his mouth.

Castle knew exactly what she was doing. She was re-exploring him, and soon, her mouth started moving along _his_ jaw, and down to his neck. She had two months to make up for, and two months worth of changes to discover.

Eventually, Beckett started moving lower, down his heaving chest. His heart pounded furiously for her. He'd lost weight, she noticed. His stomach was a little more firm. Her fingers left gooseflesh in their wake. She was about to head for his belt buckle, but she stopped. Her hand was so close to the fresh scar on his side. The bullet had grazed him, but it would have been so much worse, and she was so thankful it wasn't, that he came back to her.

Her fingers trailed over the marred skin deftly, and she leaned down to press her lips to it. That's when she felt it for the first time, how tense he was since she started moving south. He flinched when her lips touched the mark. His hands gripped the bedsheets at his sides tightly. Beckett pulled back enough to look up at him with concern, but his wide eyes were focused on the ceiling.

"Castle?"

He was trembling. She quickly crawled up alongside his body, her hands seeking his face. "Castle!" He wasn't responding to her, just gripped the sheets even tighter in his hands. "Hey," she tried for soothing. "Come on. Just look at me. It's going to be okay."

She paused to really look at him, and she saw panic in his eyes. Tears, too. He was holding his breath, or his throat was constricted so much that he just couldn't. Her hands came down on his chest and she held herself up in his line of vision. "Breathe, babe," she pleaded. "It's okay. Just breathe."

And he does. It's a strangled breath of air, but he does, and it was the first sign that he was beginning to calm down and descend back into reality. "There you go. Just breathe. In, and out." She breathed with him, reminding him how. "You're okay."

Castle started to focus on her, and she offered him a reassuring smile. "Hey," she whispered, carding a hand through his hair. He swallowed thickly, turning to curl towards her in a panic, and her arms wrapped around him as his head came to rest just above her breast. He was still shaking, and she reached blindly for the blanket they were currently on top of, but managed to pull enough of it that it wrapped around the two of them.

He clutched at her, held her tightly, and she realized he was weeping. Two weeks of acting like everything was fine caught up to him.

And all she could think was: _finally_.


End file.
